


If I Had Words

by Slashseeker



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Coping, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Headcanon, Off-screen Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slashseeker/pseuds/Slashseeker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack sees something that Bunnymund never meant to show.</p><p>(Set one year after the movie- may contain mild spoilers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Had Words

Jack watched from the high spot he had found in the Guardian of Hope's Warren. He grinned a little, even as the frost that was part of him grew over the branch he was sitting on. Bunnymund was below, humming just barely loud enough to hear. His paintbrush was in hand, delicately painting over one of the eggs, the pattern more ornate than anything else Jack had seen come from the older Guardian. The Winter Spirit would have thought, the day after a successful Easter (unlike the disaster of the year before), that the Pooka would at least relax a little. He hadn't, instead going to ground in the Warren.

 

Jack had asked North about it, and the Guardian of Wonder shook his head, shrugging. "I do not know- I have never asked. He knows he may visit if he wishes, but if he wishes to be alone, that is his choice." The big man then chuckled, shaking his head and patting Jack on the shoulder. "Come, the elves have made cookies! Let us eat and drink a bit."

 

"Thanks, but maybe next time. Have snowball fights to start, schools to close, that sort of thing." He waved a little as he made his way out, freezing the occasional elf to the floor, dodging yetis until he was nearly outside. He was stopped by one familiar yeti. "Phil! hey! What's up?"

 

The yeti grunted, then held something out to Jack, for the Spirit to take. Jack was surprised to see one of North's magic snow globes in Phil's hand. He took it carefully, then looked up at Phil again. "Did he tell you to give this to me?"

 

Phil replied, but Jack still hadn't quite learned the yeti's language, and had no clue what the other was saying. At the obvious confusion on Jack's face, Phil rolled his eyes then waved his hand a little, in a mostly universal motion of 'sort of'. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth (at least in front of the gifter), Jack took it, at a loss as to where to put it for the moment. With another roll of his eyes, Phil grabbed the snowglobe again, and, manhandling Jack, spun the Guardian around and put the snowglobe into the hood of Jack's hoodie. It was not the best place, but it would do for the moment. Jack half swayed as Phil let go, but easily steadied on his feet.

 

"...Tell him thanks for me," he muttered before heading outside. He took to the skies after a few feet, letting the wind carry him up and away from North's Workshop. It actually took him over an hour to use the snowglobe, and when he did, he tried to focus on going to the most out of the way spot in the Warren. With a rush of air and the feeling of spinning through a drain pipe, Jack was suddenly surrounded by warmth, with just the right amount of humidity, the perfect feeling of Spring. For Jack, it was a little too warm, but he could put up with it for a while yet.

 

He took to the air again, drifting towards the roof of the Warren, searching out for his fellow Guardian. That brought him to where he was now, and he continued to watch as Bunny finally finished his second egg. The first had been blue and white, the pattern familiar to the Guardian of Fun. Bunny wasn't bad at painting the frost patterns that Jack caused to grow across most everything he touched, though there was always the hint of flowers rather than ferns in the white patterns the Pooka created. The second egg was the color of new grass, with yellow and pink flowers drawn on it, somewhat abstractly. Bunnymund reached for a third egg, setting the brush he held back into the small pot of paint. Another brush was picked up, and in short order, the third egg got another base coat of green, this time the deep green of a forest at high summer, and Jack watched as sunbursts of strong yellows and blues were added, bringing to mind wide expanses of sunlit plains, seas of grass and the clearest of skies.

 

It took a while before the egg was set down to join the other two, and then he was reaching for a fourth, blank egg. That got a burnt orange base, and on it were added the myriad colors of the fall leaves, yellows and oranges and reds and browns, until it looked like the egg itself was made of leaves, folded and bunched and just small enough to cup in your hands. Bunnymund set his brush down for the final time before adding the fourth egg to the rest. He looked them over, silent for a moment before he scooped them up, cradling them carefully against his furred chest.

 

He made his way to another part of the garden, quiet and close, though still as well lit as any other area. Jack floated after, keeping his distance, just watching for once. It looked like a garden, with a riot of flowers growing everywhere. Or, at least, almost everywhere. In one corner was a patch of soil that was ready to be planted in, the color of the dirt a rich, deep brown that spoke of hand tilling and watering, perfect for growing. Bunnymund stopped there, easing the eggs down as he crouched next to the spot. Jack drifted closer, hearing Bunny start to half murmur words, which he realized were the lyrics to the song he had half heard Bunny humming before.

 

Bunnymund was no singer, but his accent helped add a bit of music to the words he sang. As he did so, he dug into the dirt with his paws, creating four small holes, one for each of the eggs he had.

 

_"If I had words to make a day for you,_   
_I'd sing you a morning golden and true_   
_I would make this day last for all time_   
_then fill the night deep with moonshine "_

 

Jack watched as each egg was lowered into the ground, then covered over carefully, almost reverently. Bunny's voice was soft, and he drifted in and out of humming, the verse repeated several times over over the course of his planting. The Winter Spirit was entranced, and practically jumped when Bunny finally turned around. They both yelped in surprised, Bunnymund actually jumping back a few feet, landing beyond the freshly 'planted' area as he instinctively reached for his boomerangs.

 

"Jack! What are ya doin' here, ya troublemaker?" His tone was sharp, surprised, almost angry. How long had Frost been standing there? How much he had seen? He half growled, ears going back- this was meant to be something private, just for him. How had Jack gotten in? He had made sure to close all the access tunnels to the Warren.

 

Jack, for his part, looked embarrassed, remorseful- it wasn't an expression the Easter Spirit had seen all that often on the young Spirit's face. "I just... I'm sorry, Bunny. Didn't mean to just barge in..." he trailed off, rubbing at the back of his neck a bit.

 

Bunnymund lowered his arms, eyes still narrowed. "How long have ya been here?"

 

"...I saw you painting the eggs from the start." He nodded towards the freshly planted spot. "They look different than the rest of your eggs..."

 

"They are," he said, tone short and defensive. After a moment, though, his stance eased a little, even as he looked Jack over, closely, as if evaluating him for something. "...they're for tha kids that don't get to see Spring come again..."

 

Jack suddenly understood, and he felt shame well up inside him as he looked away. "I'm sorry, Bunny."

 

The Pooka sighed, shaking his head and dropping down into an easy crouch. "It's been...centuries since anyone's seen me do this. When I started, this place was just grass and dirt." He waved his hand out, indicating the room. It wasn't huge, not like the main space of the Warren, but it was at least as big as his lake. There was still a decent area that was just grass, space that would be planted in time. "My first believer..." he got stuck, then swallowed hard, continuing. "She got sick. Really sick. I painted an egg for her, after that first Easter without her. When the next Easter came around, I painted two eggs, the Easter after that, three. Been painting four since that fourth Easter. One for every season." He let out a huff of air, not quite a laugh, but a noise of amusement none-the-less. "'bout every ten years, one of the Egg Sentinels pops out of the ground here. Always by the oldest eggs- I have to put the dirt right every time, too. The biggest one came up by that first egg, though. So, I keep painting and planting them, for the ankle-biters..."

 

Jack listened, quietly, nodding a little as Bunny told his story. After the Guardian of Hope he finished, he padded closer to the freshly turned soil. "I think I understand." He looked up at Bunny, giving the older Guardian a small smile. "Thank you for telling me.... Do any of the others know?"

 

Bunnymund shook his head. "Just Sandy." He let out a little snort. "Little bugger thought I needed to sleep more after a few Easters early on- wore myself out pretty easy before I really got the hang of it."

 

"So there is a learning curve, huh?" Jack grinned almost shyly, surprised that the Pooka would be so willing to talk to him so honestly, after all they had been through before last year. Though perhaps he shouldn't have been. Despite his gruff personality sometimes, Bunny was one of the sweetest people Jack had come across.

 

"Mate, ya got no idea." Patting down the soil one last time, Bunnymund straightened up. "C'mon, then. Outta here." He made his way out of the planting room, and, after one last glance around, Jack followed.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by these: http://justshortofcrazy.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/easter_eggs_8.gif
> 
> And this song: http://youtu.be/E1aAqnqBOnE


End file.
